


Into The Light

by MadamePotter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Also Slow Burn, But it's a surprise ;), Friendship, Hogwarts, Hogwarts First Year, Humor, Magic, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Prophecy, Seers, There's going to be a lot of other ships, Wizards, very slow
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-05 20:41:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17331986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadamePotter/pseuds/MadamePotter
Summary: When Cecily Quinn turned eleven she assumed it'd be pretty similar to all of her other birthdays in her small town. However, an owl, a letter, and a woman in green would prove her wrong. Cecily must finish her year at Hogwarts in one piece; learning magic, dodging monsters, and making friends with two strange boys, a know it all, Harry Potter, and a pack of gingers. All while keeping a secret, one that she doesn't even fully understand. Can she use her powers to fix things, to save lives, or is she destined to watch as everything falls apart?





	1. The New Seer

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, I’ve wanted to write this for a while so I hope you like it! Feel free to leave a comment, or a constructive criticism.

It seemed ironic that the wizarding world would hear of the new seer through a prophecy; a propechy only a few knew. It also seemed ironic that a girl fated to see all would be branded with the name Cecily: to see none.

Cecily had always hated her name. She hated how it sounded, hated how her mother used it when she was particularly angry, hated how it never seemed to quite fit. But it was a strong name, a good name—so she was told time and time again—, her mother’s loud voice hitting every syllable like it was poetry.

The children in the town, their Irish accents and their baby teeth, just couldn’t pronounce it, meaning she had so many nicknames it was hard to count. Her schoolmates called her Ceci, her friends (friend*), Sissy, the older folk, Celia—they thought that was her actual name—and her grandfather, well she liked his name for her best: Lily. It was much simpler, and ten times prettier than her own name. Her grandmother just called her Cecily, telling her over and over, that it was a beautiful name, and ,with a sparkle in her eye, assured her she’d understand someday. Her little gariníon (her little granddaughter)—the Gaelic language never seemed to leave her—was destined for great things. Cecily never really believed her.

The visions came when she was 4. She didn’t understand them, but it confused her mother how the young girl always seemed to know when her grandparents were coming, even when she didn’t know herself. Or how she could be found crying a day before someone’s death. Her mother found it odd; old Irish myths floated to her mind. But unlike the gullible old women, she was practical and didn’t believe in such nonsense.

And then came the magic. The flying objects, and the teleporting toys, and the constant confusion. Cecily’s mother believed, that for the first time in her life, she had been wrong about the Gaelic myths. She had heard all about the _asos sí_. The Fair Folk, who were appeased by offerings, but if angered would exchange your baby for a changeling. That’s what she thought she had: a changeling. Well, she believed that for a day. Then, upon further research she found her baby couldn’t possibly be a changeling, Cecily looked too much like her. Too much like her father.

Her father’s eyes. Eyes that constantly changed; on clear days in the little fishing village, they seemed almost blue, but on the days when storms would force people inside, her eyes would turn steely grey, making you think they had always been that way. When her mother had looked into her daughter’s eyes for the first time, she thought she had seen a ghost. That color and the same inquisitive look. Cecily’s hair was all her mother’s however. While her father’s Colombian heritage gave him dark black hair, her mother had brown hair. Nothing quite significant, and as Cecily grew, she wished for any other color. 

There Cecily lived, with her mother and her grandparents, in the small town. The folk of Skibbereen lived simple lives. Everybody knew everyone and their mother, the population just a little over a six hundred. Not many secrets can be kept in a small town, and it seemed like there was always new gossip to share about Mrs. so and so’s problems with their husband. Though, I suppose, one secret remained hidden from the prying eyes of the little fishing village. No one knew a small witch lived in their midst. But this was for the best; the superstitious old women from the hovels of the town with their unwavering faith in the Lord their savior would have cast her out, in fear of the Devils’ presence in their quaint lives.

___

As she aged, Cecily became closer to her grandmother, as the children thought her strange and unusual—something passed on to them by their parents. When she was younger, she had a couple of friends, but as her life became more magical, it became lonelier as well. So she stayed close to her grandmother. 

Margaret Quinn, was a spirited 85-year-old women, who was always kind and understanding, but should you do anything to her granddaughter…well you best not. And she always seemed to know more than she let on about the abilities Cecily had. None of her other family members, however, could understand the impossible things she did. Once, a girl had pushed her into the mud, cackling loudly, only to be silenced when Cecily stood up perfectly clean. Another time, she had been playing by the pond near her house, during winter, and had fallen in. Her mother, hearing the splash, had run out into the yard, only to find her daughter in comfortably warm water, smiling happily. Peculiar things seemed to follow Cecily wherever she went, and no one more than Cecily herself wished for an explanation.

Her wish was granted on June 21st, her 11th birthday. Cecily woke up to the rain. She ran downstairs as the smell of breakfast filled the small house. Her mother handed her a poorly wrapped gift, which despite the odd taping, was clearly a book. She ripped it open, delighted to find a….diary. It was a diary. 

“Mummmm!” she whined, “You got me a journal?” Looking at the diary with offense, “What am I supposed to do with this?!” 

Her mother looked at her with amusement, “Write in it, of course”. 

Cecily stomped off, huffing as she took her seat at the table, shoving food into her mouth. Two seconds later, she was screaming as an owl shot in through the open window, screeching loudly. Her mother grabbed the oatmeal-filled pot, swinging at the terrified creature, covering the house with oatmeal and feathers. Only when the owl had flown off in terror, did the two notice the letter it had left behind. 

“Lily, did owls always carry letters?” Her mother asked.

Cecily shrugged, red-faced and out of breath. Her mother picked up the letter, carefully, tearing it open. She quickly scanned the letter, stopped, and read it again. Her eyes widened. 

“What is it mum?” Cecily asked. 

“You’re a witch” 

“What?” Cecily asked affronted. 

“You’re a witch” her mother repeated bluntly. 

And saying nothing more, she handed her daughter the letter. Taking it cautiously in her hands, she studied the envelope, addressed in emerald green to Miss C. Quinn, The Kitchen, House-by-the-Sea, Skibbereen. She opened the letter, and began to read.

 

HOGWARTS SCHOOL  
of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDY  
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore  
_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_  
Dear Miss Quinn,  
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. 

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31. I, Professor McGonagall, will be by shortly to explain this to you and your mother.  
Yours sincerely,  
Minerva McGonagall,  
_Deputy Headmistress_

 

And she didn’t doubt it for second. Sure she was shocked, it’s not every day an owl savagely attacks her, and she finds out she’s a witch. She turned to her mother.

“I’m a witch” She affirmed.

She wasn’t sure how both her mother and she could act so calm, but she supposed that they’d been expecting this. She knew for a fact that most 5 year olds couldn’t turn their hair pink, just because they wanted to look like their My Little Pony. And so they sat down, their plates forgotten, and the oatmeal that had been flung around the room left to harden. Her mother tapped her foot.

“Stop”, insisted Cecily.

“How long is shortly?” her mother questioned.

“How would I know?” Ms. Quinn shrugged

There was a knock, and they both jumped. Her mother ran to the door, and flung it open, revealing a stern women with black hair and emerald green robes.

“Good afternoon Miss and Ms. Quinn. I am Professor McGonagall” she said with a thick Scottish accent. “I assume you got my letter?” 

Cecily nodded slowly. Seeing her look of shock, the older woman’s expression softened.

“Why don’t we sit, I’ll explain” She stopped shortly, looking at the carnage left behind by the owl. “Oh my!”

“The owl” answered Ms. Quinn.

“Oh” nodded McGonagall, “Well why don’t I clean this up” 

And with that, she pulled out a long brown stick, waved it, “Scourgify”

The oatmeal vanished, and any doubts that Cecily may have had along with it. Professor McGonagall led them to their sofa and handed them each a cup of tea. Cecily wondered where she had gotten the tea. Probably magic.

“As you have been told, you are a witch. Hogwarts is a school where young witches and wizards learn to control their gifts. There you will be taught the magical arts: Transfiguration—my own class—Charms, Potions, Astronomy, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, as well as flying lessons” Professor McGonagall stopped, when she noticed the Quinns’s confusion. 

“Questions?”

“I take all those classes?”

“Well, in your first year, yes, those are your seven core subjects. You can choose to take different classes throughout your seven years at Hogwarts, and flying is only mandatory your first year” McGonagall explained, then waited for the young girl to say something else, when Cecily didn’t, she continued.

“Hogwarts has four houses: Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw. These houses will be like your family during your time at Hogwarts; you will sleep in the same dorm rooms and eat at the same tables.”

Her mother had been quiet, for quite some time, but finally seemed to have regained her voice, “It’s a boarding school?”

“Yes”

“Oh”, her mother seemed put off by this response.

“But, your daughter will be able to send you letters via owl,” Ms. Quinn cringed, “and can return for Christmas if she wishes”

“And where is this school” Ms. Quinn sensed her daughter’s excitement and desire to ask more about the “fun” stuff, but she had her own questions first

“Scotland, but you will not find it on a map. It is hidden from the eyes of muggles”

“Muggles?” questioned Cecily.

“Non-Magical folk. You, I presume, are a muggle-born. Someone who has non-magical parents, however you will usually find a squib or two somewhere down the line. Then there are half-bloods: those with one wizarding and one muggle or muggle-born parent. Lastly, pure-bloods: witches and wizards who come from a long line of magical folk” Finally Professor McGonagall stopped.

Muggles, squibs, pure-bloods?! Too many words that she didn’t understand. Once again that soft smile returned to Professor McGonagall’s face.

“Don’t worry, everything will make sense at Hogwarts. Last order of business, you will need to get your school supplies. You will find all of it in Diagon Alley. As it is in London, I will set up a Floo Network here, so that you can easily travel there. Your list of supplies is in the letter you received”

She pointed her wand at the fireplace, muttered a few words, and then turned and handed them a jar of green dust, “Throw this in the flames, clearly say Diagon Alley, and step in. You can exchange your money for the proper currency at Gringots, the wizarding bank, I assume your answer is yes?”

“To what?” inquired Ms. Quinn.

“To Hogwarts of course!”

“YES!” shouted Cecily.

McGonagall smiled, and without another word, exited the small house, leaving the Quinns to wonder if it was real.


	2. Floo Powder, Gingers, and Diagon Alley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cecily and her mom are off to Diagon Alley! But first, they have to figure out how to use floo powder! She also might meet a peculiar pair of twins while shopping for her school supplies...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the one person who just read this, Thanks! Again, feel free to leave a comment, and I hope you like this chapter. Also Skibbereen is a real place, fun fact. I just looked up small Irish towns, and I thought the name was neat. Another thing, you might notice that I start interchanging Cecily for Lily. That's just because she prefers the name and since she can introduce herself to a whole new world, she chooses Lily.
> 
> WHO IS READING THIS PLEASE COMMENT. DO YOU LIKE IT? I need validation.

They sat for a long while after Professor McGonagall had left. Neither knew what to say; her mother still worried about sending her baby away, and her daughter wanted to know when she could wear the cool green robes. 

“Mum!” Cecily broke the silence, “mum, mum, mum, mum!”

Ms. Quinn silenced her with her hand, grabbed the jar of ashes, and turned towards the newly discovered witch, “Alright, grab your coat”

Cecily was ready in two minutes, she flew down the stairs in record time, not bothering to tie her shoes, barely avoiding falling face first. Unfortunately, they would not leave for another hour. The ashes had been placed in the fireplace quickly, there was no conflict there; however, when green fire replaced orange, all they could do was stare at the uninviting flames.

“I think…I think we just walk in them?” Cecily said with doubt.

“Walk…into the fire” Her mother repeated.

“Well when you say it like that, it sounds stupid!” 

They waited five more minutes, until Cecily’s hyperactive eleven-year-old self could wait no longer, and headed into the flames, shouting a quick “Diagon Alley!” as her mother screamed after her.

—  
When she opened her eyes, she was in a dim room. She rubbed them quickly, brushing off the dust. Clear now, she saw that she was in what seemed to be a tavern, slightly dingy, but comfortable. She went to stand, only to be knocked off her feet by her screaming mother, bringing the pair to the attention of all the inhabitants of the bar.

“OOUF” She squirmed under the weight, “Geo’off me!”

Laughing, panting, and red-faced, her mother rolled to one side, stood up, trying to collect the rest of her dignity. Cecily couldn’t help it—looking at her dusty mother with her hair standing in all directions—she giggled too. The occupants of the…she looked around, spotting a sign by the door…The Leaky Cauldron, went back to ignoring them.

“Lily, aren’t you forgetting something?” Her mother hinted.

Cecily wracked her brain. Forgetting something? She didn’t think so.

“THE LIST!” She shouted, a woman in the corner glared at her, she continued quietly, “I forgot the list! Mum! How will we know what to get?!”

Ms. Quinn smiled, reached into her bag, and handed Cecily the list of school supplies. She hugged her mother.

“OH Thank Goodness!” she shouted, catching the attention of the bartender.

He walked over, eyebrow cocked, “Muggleborn?”

She supposed she was being just a bit obvious. He pointed to the door out the back.

“I’m Tom, I’ll take you to the entrance” 

The bartender—Tom—smiled and gestured for them to follow him. He led them to a tall brick wall that looked very solid and very unmovable. Cecily wondered if she would see more magic. She was right. Tom took out his stick—sorry his wand, she corrected—and tapped out a pattern onto the bricks. For a moment nothing happened, but then she heard the scraping of bricks and a plume of dust covered the entrance. When it had cleared, Cecily gasped.

Men, women, and children dressed in so many different colors and robes, her eyes had a difficult time adjusting. Books flew in circles in front of shops, and owls and cats and mice whined loudly in their cages. She grabbed her mother’s hand, and headed for the nearest shop, Flourish and Blotts, and rushed inside. Books. So many books. She had never seen so many books. Back in Skibbereen, the bookstore was quite small, and most of the books were well worn. The things sold in here were new and beautiful. She went to grab the list out of her mother’s hands, but Mrs. Quinn held it out of reach.

“Hold on!” She said, “I still need to exchange the money, I don’t think euros will work here”

Her daughter looked at her, crestfallen, clearly wanting to look around more.

“Alright fine, you go explore, but be careful, for Christ’s sake, and don’t get lost” She warned, “I’ll be back shortly, meet me back here in thirty minutes”. Cecily grinned and raced out of the store. 

—

First, she checked out Slug and Jiggers Apothecary; there were potions everywhere. Potions that bubbled, potions that smelled like rotten eggs when she walked by, and even one potion that was on fire (two little boys were convincing another boy to stick his finger in the flames). She walked away (to the sound of tears). Attracted by the birds, she ran to Eeylops Owl Emporium, gazed at the magnificent creatures for a few minutes then turned sharply. Next was Amanuensis Quills—where a rather bushy haired girl was debating which feather pen was conducive for success—then Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour—she would be back with money—and lastly Quality Quidditch Supplies. She had walked past it earlier, on her way to Amanuensis Quills, but there had been too many children covering the front entrance. Now the crowd had died down, though it was still quite full, and she went inside.

She had been surprised by many things that day, but the ungodly amount of brooms in this shop took her back. _Wizards must really enjoy cleaning_. The other strange thing was how beautiful the brooms were. They were sleek and polished, and not one twig out of place. She set her hand on a particularly stunning one.

“The Nimbus 2000!” She jumped at the voice, no…voices, behind her. 

She spun around and was greeted by two, red-haired, identical faces. 

“Oh sorry, did we startle you?” the twins asked in unison. Cecily was very confused.

“I’m Fred,” one said, “and I’m George”, finished the other.

After a moment, it dawned on Cecily that she should introduce herself too. 

“Lily” She put her hand out for them to shake.

“Irish!” they exclaimed, both grabbing her hand to shake it vigorously, “Wonderful!” said Fred—well she thought it was Fred.  
He continued, “I assume you support their Quidditch team. Me and George support them most of the time since they get through more than Britain’s team. We’re rubbish”.  
Cecily understood nothing of what Fred had just said, “Quidditch?”

She watched as Fred gasped in astonishment, but before he could tell her what he thought about her not knowing about Quidditch, George cut him off.

“Oh you’re muggleborn”

Lily was pleased to hear a word she recognized.

“Oh yes,” she nodded happily.

“Then let us” started Fred (who had gotten over his momentary shock), “Be the first”, continued George. “To introduce you to…”

They tapped their hands against their legs, “QUIDDITCH” 

She laughed at their theatrics and rolled her eyes, “Oh do enlighten me will you”

“Don’t rush us!” George admonished.

“So basically, simplified version, Quidditch is a wizarding sport where everybody flies around on brooms” They continued on with their far-from-simplified version. Apparently, they were beaters, there was a snitch—which wasn’t a person but a small gold flying ball—and a quaffle—seriously who came up with these names—and some other things which she already forgot.

“But whoever has the most points at the end of the game wins!” George finished.

Lily stared at them, “That explained nothing. And these brooms you fly on,” She glared reproachfully at the broom. “You said they just, fly. That’s impossible. Brooms don’t fly. They’re just….” She searched for the right words, “wooden deathtraps”.

“Hang on a second!” Fred interjected. “They are not just _wooden deathtraps_! They are part of a beautiful and intricate sport that makes perfect sense,” He ignored her eye fluttering, “and, and just because you’re afraid of heights doesn’t mean you should criticize Quidditch”

“I am _not afraid of heights_!” She hissed, “I can fly on an aeroplane just fine” (she had only been on one once. Briefly)

George entered the conservation again, “Oh ya! You muggles got your fancy ear-o-plains. Those great big metal birds, that wizards are always dodging.”

“What’s the difference then?” questioned Fred.

“Well…well aeroplanes were built with science, they fly because of science. There’s no logical explanation as to why a broom would fly! It’s impossible!” Lily shot back.

“It’s not impossible, it’s _magic_ ” Fred explained with frustration.

Cecily scowled, “Well, I’m still not going on one”.

George looked between the two, then smiled, and once again shook her hand “It was _very_ nice to meet you!” Fred looked at George with annoyance, and they seemed to share a very quick wordless conversation.

“Oh. Well, thanks?” she said slowly, surprised by the sudden change of subject, then, glancing at the clock in the store, noticed the time. “OH! I’ve got to go! My mum’s waiting for me! Nice meeting you two!”

And she ran back to Flourish and Blotts, leaving the confused boys behind. She quickly spotted her mother outside of the store waiting impatiently.

“Sorry mum!” said Cecily. 

Ms. Quinn frowned at her daughter. “Where were you? I’ve been waiting here for 10 minutes!”

“Sorry, sorry! I was just talking to these two boys who go to Hogwarts” she explained.  
Her mother narrowed her eyes but said nothing further on the subject.

“Come on, let’s go get your things”

—

Cecily and Ms. Quinn walked down the bustling street as Cecily reached into her mother’s bag for the list of school supplies.

“Oh, mum! We passed the bookstore already” Cecily realized, and her mother winced.

“Darling, I saw some of the prices in there, and from what the goblins told me, I don’t think we’ll be able to afford some of the stuff. But we can go to the second-hand shops” Her mother said nervously.

But Cecily had ignored the last part of the sentence, “Wait. Goblins?”

“Darling, that really wasn’t the main message, but yes there were goblins running the bank” responded Ms. Quinn, smiling at Cecily’s amazement. “But are you ok with going to the second-hand shops,” she asked again.

“That’s alright mum”, Cecily nodded glumly.

She had known that her mother and she had had money problems for a while. She was a single parent, and although she worked two jobs in Skibbereen, Cecily understood that her mother didn’t make that much money. 

Sensing her daughter’s somber attitude, Mrs. Quinn quickly pulled out the list of school supplies, and nudged her daughter, “Let’s go shop!”

That improved Cecily’s mood; grinning she grabbed the list from her mum’s hands and looked at it.

“Mum,” she said slowly, “could I, possibly, get an animal. It says right here that were allowed to bring one”

Her mother pursed her lips and looked at her daughter. Not wanting to completely ruin Cecily’s mood, she said optimistically, “How about we see how much money we have left?”

Cecily nodded happily, then checked the first thing on her list.

“Ok, first we need robes. I think I passed a second-hand robes shop before,” she searched the street, “There!”

She grabbed Ms. Quinn’s hand and they rushed off.

Sara Howls’ Second Hand Robes the sign said. They ran out 20 minutes later with the required items and a faded, slightly too-big, set of robes. They had also received, free of charge, an explanation of the confusing currency.

“Next is…” Cecily checked the list, “my books!”

She had been most excited for these. Spotting the Wellington’s Second Hand Books, she ran over. 

“Slow down!” Her mother laughed.

Stepping into the bookstore, she noticed right off the bat, that this store was filled with students of all ages. The loudest of which was a red-haired family. Like a whirlwind, they grabbed books, as the littlest followed around whining that she should get to go to Hogwarts too. They looked quite like the two boys she had met before, now that she thought about it. 

She spent about an hour looking for all her required books. Some were in a surprisingly good condition, but the only copy of _Magical Drafts and Potions_ left seemed to be a little burnt on the edges. It also had a mysterious stain; she thought she’d better not question it. She spotted a well-worn copy of _Hogwarts a History_ and after telling her mother it was only 5 knuts, she was able to add it to her pile. After buying everything she needed, it was finally time for the most exciting thing. The wand.

“Lily. D’you think you could get a wand on your own? I’ve just checked the list, and I think we’ve forgotten something” Her mother told her. 

Cecily thought she had looked at the supplies quite carefully, but she didn’t pay much mind. Besides she really wanted to get her wand. She nodded and they split ways.

—

Ollivander’s was much different than she expected. It was empty and dark. A layer of dust seemed to inhabit the whole shop. She coughed once, to inform anyone in there that she was inside, also because there was a lot of dust. A thin man poked his head out behind the shelves.

“Oh, welcome” His wide pale eyes stared into hers, and she felt slightly unnerved. “Name?” Still distracted by his intense look she could only answer, 

“What?”

“Your last name, what is it?” He asked again.

“Oh…er…Quinn?” She answered hesitantly.

“Are you sure, my dear?” He questioned. “You look an awful lot like…well…I best not  
say. Why don’t we get you a wand?”

She nodded, grateful that he was paying attention to something other than herself. She regretted this quickly. Mr. Ollivander began to take out many boxes, asking her to wave them or hold them, sometimes taking them away before she even touched them. When she did get to wave one, she understood his wariness as boxes started flying everywhere and glass broke.

20 minutes and 37 boxes later, Lily was becoming very frustrated. Mr. Ollivander, however, looked like Christmas had come early. He kept mumbling to himself, and she was getting pretty creeped out. Then he stopped. He went into the back, so that Lily could not see him, and came back holding a very old and very dusty box.

“Perhaps,” He said mysteriously, then opened the box slowly and handed her the wand. It was beautiful. Lily held it carefully as if it would break. Intricate green vines wove around it like snakes and the wood was very light. She had only seen a few wands since entering the wizarding world, but this was the most beautiful by far. 

“Silver Lime wood, Unicorn hair core, 10 ¾, Brittle flexibility,” Ollivander said softly, “Favored by Seers”  
Lily’s eyes flashed grey, and she looked up. It was all so familiar.  
The shop door opened, and her mother entered loudly, carrying something in her arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow you read the whole thing! I'm proud of you. And if you're waiting for the next chapter, I was gonna post it next week, but that's what I said about this chapter, so it will probably be up sooner.


	3. Two Trains and a Cat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cecily Quinn was much too sleep deprived to deal with September 1st.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told you I was going to post chapter 3 soon. I've been editing this with my friend for two hours, so I hope you like it. I think we've gone a bit mad. 
> 
> me: types hug  
> my friend: qug  
> me: quick qug  
> her: quiet quick qug  
> me: quite quiet quick qug

There was a rat in her mother’s arms. 

“I’ve got you a cat!” Or at least she _thought_ it was a rat. She looked at the creature doubtfully.

“Mum, are you sure that’s a cat?” Her mother looked down at the pitiful “cat”.

“Well, that’s what the store told me. I would’ve gotten you a cat with hair but they were a little expensive,” apologized her mother, “his name is Dumbledore, which I thought was a pretty strange name for a cat, but he won’t respond to anything else. Well, except Dory.”

Mr. Ollivander, seemingly shaken out of his momentary confusion, piped in, “Yes Dumbledore, a very powerful wand that one.”

Both Quinns turned to the wandmaker.

“Cats don’t have wands,” stated Lily. Well, at least she thought they didn’t. Mr. Ollivander offered nothing else but a serene smile before asking for his payment.

With squirming cat in hand, they exited the musty store and headed towards the Leaky Cauldron and home. 

__

It had been three months since she had received her letter and visited Diagon Alley, and it was finally the day she would be leaving behind her life at Skibbereen for one whole year. Well, except for Christmas. 

She had been packing and repacking for a week and she didn’t even know what the weather would be like! All she knew about Hogwarts came from the information in a second letter she had received towards the end of summer. She was told that she should arrive at King’s Cross Station on September 1st at eleven o’clock in the morning. With the message came one ticket for the Hogwarts’ Express. For platform 9 ¾. Lily recalled the conversation she had had with her mother a few weeks prior:

 _“9 and ¾? That’s not a real platform!” Her mother had exclaimed.  
“Well, it must be! It says so right on the ticket!”_

Lily had a strong suspicion her mother might be right, but she replaced her worries with incessant packing. To add to her stress, Dumbledore seemed to be as mean as he was ugly. He constantly hissed at her, allowing only her mother to pick him up. He also had a bad habit of running away. All summer she was chasing him around the small town, further solidifying her reputation for being strange. The one time she had tried to put him in his crate, she came out looking like she had lost a fight to an aggressive rose bush.

 

The whole morning had been full of hectic shouting, as Lily and her mother grabbed all of her luggage and dragged it outside. They had woken up at 4am, as the train ride to London would take 5 hours. Needless to say, tensions were high.

“Dory, you twit! Get back here!” 

“LILY! Stop torturing Dory!” Screamed her mother.

“Sorry mum,” Lily yelled back, “but it’s not my fault! This thing is a demon in a cat’s body! And it didn’t even put any effort into looking like a cat!” She had received a sharp bite for that comment.

They grabbed their bags and the howling cat and raced out the door at 5:30, with fifteen minutes to get to the train station down the road. Fortunately, most were still asleep that grey morning, but the few early risers did not know what to make of the scene before them.

Despite the setbacks, they got to the station in record time and raced onto the train.

“Next year,” her mother huffed, “we’re going to arrive a day before.”

“Agreed,” replied Lily as she slumped into her seat, desperately awaiting an end to the five-hour ride that had not yet begun. 

Luckily, the train arrived on time at 10:40. Rather unluckily, they had no idea how to find Platform 9 ¾. Lily and Ms. Quinn stood there awkwardly with a heavy trolley and one angry cat, drawing in many curious onlookers. Then, as if some kind of worried higher power heard Lily’s intentions to murder her cat, a small family of three raced passed them. There was a mother and two girls, who were too similar to not be twins.

“Parvati! Padma!” The mother called. “Come on! We’re going to be late!” Lily was pleased to see that the girls had an owl. She was certain no normal family would have an owl, so she grabbed her mother and followed them. 

Then they went into a wall. A very solid, brick wall. A wall between Platform 9 and 10, but a wall nonetheless. She gaped at the place where the girls had stood, awestruck. Mrs. Quinn, however, was very done with magic.

“That’s it. Come on, into the wall. We are walking into that wall, Lily. I’ll have you know, this is not what I signed up for. I thought you’d do a couple of tricks, pull a rabbit out of your hat and that’s it. But nooooo. We have to walk through walls too! Am I dead? That would make more sense,” her mother complained as she dragged her daughter through the wall. 

They did not crash, nor were they dead. Well, at least Lily hoped so—she had closed her eyes so she didn’t really know. When she opened them she was shocked to find a new platform packed with people carrying big trunks and a wide assortment of animals. Dozens of kids were lugging their bags onto the train or trying to escape the grasp of clingy parents. She also thought she spotted a familiar loud red-haired family. Just as she was about to run onto the train, she too fell victim to a clingy parent. Her mother pulled her into a bone-breaking hug, ignoring her daughter’s pleas. 

“Mum, I can’t breathe!” Lily wheezed. Finally, Mrs. Quinn released her. 

“Wait, wait! Don’t go yet! Let me look at you” Her mother insisted—Lily groaned—“Now, don’t give me any of that. I won’t see you for a very long time, so you have to let your poor lonely mother get a good look at you before you leave her forever.” Lily giggled, gave her mother one more hug, then escaped from her grasp before Mrs. Quinn decided she’d rather not let her daughter go to a strange magical school that she knew nothing about. Ms. Quinn waved as Lily boarded the train, tears in her eyes.

“Bye, my love! Don’t get into too much trouble. Don’t talk to boys!” Lily stuck her tongue out, “Oh, and write to me every day!”

“Mum, I can’t write to you every day! I’ll be busy. How about every month?”

“NO! Every day!”

“Every week?”

“Every day!”

“Every three days?” Lily bargained. Ms. Quinn paused, then sighed.

“Fine.” 

“I love you!” And with one last hug, Lily boarded the train.

It was much more packed than she had anticipated, and it seemed like every compartment was already filled. She started to get worried when she neared the end of the train, but finally, she found one with only two other kids in it, both of whom looked to be around her age.

There was a sandy-haired boy and a tall black boy sitting across from each other. They also seemed to be in an argument. Before she could change her mind, she knocked quietly on the door. Both boys turned to look at her, and she felt her face go hot. She opened the compartment door quickly.

“Um…excuse me. Is there room?” She asked. 

“Of course! I’m Seamus,” said the sandy-haired boy, who she now knew was also Irish. Gesturing to the other boy: “and this is Dean. Sorry about the yelling. We were just trying to decide whether football or Quidditch was better.”

“Football!” Said the boy named Dean. Lily was pleased she knew a little bit about both sports, and gladly added to the conversation.

“I’ve got to say, I’d go with football. Quidditch is much too strange to like.”

“See,” said Dean, grinning. Seamus, however, looked aghast.

“That’s just because you guys haven’t seen a real Quidditch match! Picture this! A bunch of players soaring through the air chucking balls at each other. Have you ever heard anything more beautiful?” he finished dramatically.

“That sounds barbaric,” Lily answered. Dean nodded, pleased that a third party had taken his side.

“I agree with…Uh, what’s your name?”

“Oh, right! Lily. My name’s Lily…Quinn” She said awkwardly.

“Pleased to meet you, Lily. It’s nice to see another Irish person around here, everybody’s just from London. BORING!” bellowed Seamus. Dean looked at him, offended. Seamus ignored him, “So what are you?”

Lily bristled, “What?” She had heard this question many times. Mostly from people who had never seen a dark-skinned girl in a small Irish town. 

“You know? You’re parents? Were they magic? Me mum’s a witch, and me dad’s a muggle. But he didn’t know until after they were married!” They all laughed and Lily relaxed, she could answer that. Well. Mostly.

“No, my mum is a Muggle!” she explained, “And my dad died before I was born, so I don’t really know about him.”

“My parents are muggles too,” Dean added. Lily was happy that she had things in common with the two boys, as she had feared that she would be thought of as strange here too. She realized she had been standing for quite some time and quickly put her bags in the overhead compartment as the boys continued their argument over sports again. Once she sat down, she took out Dory’s crate and nervously looked at the cat. He looked downright murderous. She supposed she’d have to take him out sooner or later, so she opened the crate and carefully pulled him out. All conversation in the compartment stopped.

“What. The. Bloody. Hell. Is. That?” Seamus exclaimed.

“Oh. This is my cat. He’s the worst,” replied Lily cheerfully.

“That is not a cat,” Dean interjected.

“Well, that’s what the store told me. His name is Dumbledore,” Lily scowled at the ugly animal. Had she looked up, she would have noticed Seamus’ looks of utter bewilderment.

“You named that creature Dumbledore? After…the headmaster?”

Lily was horrified. “The store named him! And I didn’t know the headmaster’s name was Dumbledore! Oh God,” she moaned, looking at her cat. “You really are the devil, aren’t you?” With that, the cat jumped out of her arms and past the door that she forgot to close. Lily groaned again, and Dean and Seamus looked at her expectantly.

“Aren’t you…you know…going to get your cat?” Dean asked.

“Nah, he’ll be back eventually. He does this all the time.” She clarified and sat back in her seat, just now remembering how tired she was. Four was not a good time to wake up. She quickly found it difficult to keep her eyes open and hardly heard Seamus when he excused himself to use the bathroom. Dean, sensing that the young witch would not be a very good conversationalist anymore, opened a book.

Not even a moment later, Seamus ran back into the compartment, and Lily’s eyes shot open. 

“You will not believe what I just heard!” Seamus announced. Lily groaned, accepting defeat; sleep was but a distant dream.

“HARRY POTTER is on OUR TRAIN,” Seamus continued, ignoring his less than captive audience. 

“Who?” Both Dean and Lily asked.

“Who? WHO?” roared Seamus, “Only the most famous wizard of all time! Ever heard of the Boy Who Lived? Not every boy _lives_ you know. It’s just not a common thing!” Lily glanced at Dean, who like her was unsure of whether to run or to ask Seamus more.

“Who is Harry Potter?” Lily questioned tentatively, as Dean shook his head across from her, trying his best to discreetly convince her to run away. 

“Ugh! Fools, the lot of you! Harry Potter defeated You-Know-Who as a baby! What did you do as a baby? Probably nothing!” Seamus accused with exasperation. 

“Seamus. We don’t know who You-Know-Who is, either,” Dean interrupted. Seamus looked annoyed that he had to explain any of this.

“Fine, fine. You-Know-Who was this super dark wizard who got really powerful years ago.” He lowered his voice, and any trace of his earlier theatrics vanished.

“A lot of people died. One night he went to the home of the Potters and killed all but the baby. For some reason, he couldn’t kill that baby, and he vanished. That’s why Harry Potter’s so famous. He’s the only one who’s been hit by the killing curse and lived to tell the tale.”

The compartment door flung open to reveal a girl with large bushy hair “Has anyone seen a toad?” They all jumped. She waited impatiently.

“A toad?” asked Dean.

“Yes, a _toad_. A boy named Neville lost it. I’m Hermione Granger by the way” The girl, Hermione, said all of this very quickly. 

“Erm…no, but if you see a large hairless rat let me know. I am hoping to find my cat before we arrive” Lily responded. Hermione frowned, seeming to disapprove of the way she referred to her pet.

“That’s not a very nice way to talk about a cat,” Hermione scolded.

“Well my cat’s not very nice,” stated Lily bluntly. Hermione looked annoyed for a second, but whatever she was going to say was interrupted by a shout.

“I better go see what that’s about,” she announced importantly and promptly left. Lily looked at the boys.

“Well she was strange,” Seamus commented. Lily and Dean nodded in agreement.

“Didn’t even ask our names,” Dean reminded. Another shout was heard a moment later. The trio looked up.

“I’ll go see what’s going on,” Lily said bravely. “Be right back!” She ran out of the compartment only to immediately run into someone. She rubbed her head, nursing what she knew would be a bruise later.

“Oh my God, I am so sorry!” A moment later, a hand reached down and pulled her up.  
“I wasn’t looking where I was going!” The voice continued, “It’s just there was this…Lily?” She looked up to see George Weasley. Wait, no. Fred Weasley? 

“Um…Fred?” She gambled. He cocked one eyebrow.

“Lucky guess,” to which Lily smirked and he continued, “Despite your backward views concerning Quidditch, I suppose it’s nice to see you again.” Lily wasn’t sure if she should be offended or flattered.

“Thank you?”

“You are very welcome!” Fred said happily, “So, who are you sitting with? If you’re alone you could go sit with my brother; he’s a first year too.”

“I found people to sit with, thank you very much. Very nice people. I don’t need help making friends,” she assured him. “Besides, if he’s anything like you, I don’t know if I want to sit with him!”

“OH, OH. I’m wounded! How could you say something so cruel!” Fred cried dramatically. She rolled her eyes and scoffed.

“Hilarious. A real comedian.” She replied blandly, trying to hide her amusement.

“I see my reputation precedes me. You’ll see, Miss Quinn,” He leaned closer, as if the information was top secret, “I’m quite well known for my top-notch tomfoolery.” Needless to say, Lily was unimpressed. Who even used the word ‘tomfoolery?’ Her conversation was cut short once again, by another loud yelp. 

“What is going on?!” She demanded, marching down the corridor with a confused Fred in tow. The source of the noise was indeed a sight to behold.

Hermione was hiding in a compartment, along with some other smart passengers, watching three boys—who were covered in scratches—cower before a…cat?

“Dory?!” Lily exclaimed, “You little demon cat, is that where you ran off to?” She snatched her cat from the floor, ignoring his angry protests. Finally, one of the boys lifted his head. He had pale blonde hair, and his body shook with rage (and fear). 

“That’s _your_ cat? That ugly beast?!” 

Lily bristled. Despite having no love for her cat, this boy was getting on her nerves.  
“Hey, only I get to call my cat an ugly beast!” She fumed. The blonde-haired boy ignored her.

“Keep that…that _thing_ away from me. Or my father will hear about this!” Dumbledore hissed, and the blonde boy and his two other lackeys ran off. Hermione, no longer frightened, came out.

“I don’t think you should be starting fights, especially right before we get to school. You, you should probably put your robes on too. We’ll be at Hogwarts soon,” she said in a quiet voice, still trembling from the traumatic experience. Before she left, she looked at the cat in Lily’s arms, and—before Lily could warn her—pet him. Shockingly, the cat did not bite her—or kill her. Lily stared at Hermione, who responded with, “they weren’t very nice boys,” and left. 

Fred looked at Lily and her cat in amazement. Then, he smiled.  
“Oh, we’ll definitely need you,” he concluded. “I’ll see you around, Lily Quinn. And bring the cat.” Fred promptly dashed off, leaving behind a confused girl.

When she returned to her compartment and told the boys what had happened, only threatening to set her cat on them got them to stop laughing. After Dean had let out another snort, she kicked them both out and said she needed to change.  
Several minutes later, Lily, Dean, and Seamus were dressed in their school robes and pressing their faces excitedly against the window as the train came to a stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you found this humorous, and I'm glad you read another chapter. Next one's gonna be a little more mysterious...  
> Also she’s gonna get sorted!!!!
> 
> So I've finished chapter 4, I just have to edit it, but it should be up soonish.


	4. The Vision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cecily finally arrives at Hogwarts and is ready to be sorted, but even magic doesn't explain the strange things that happen to her...or the strange things she sees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter's a little shorter, but I think the next should be longer. She's going to start her classes, and you guys are going to meet some new characters!

As the train came to a grinding halt, Lily’s face, which had been pressed against the glass, hit the window. Unfortunately, Dean and Seamus shared the same fate, and the trio ran out of the compartment holding their sore noses. She kept a tight grip on Dumbledore.

The wind swept through her robes as she stepped off the train, and she shivered in the night air. _I knew I should have prepared for colder weather_ , Lily thought as she pulled her cat closer, hoping he’d provide some heat. She doubted it; his heart was too cold. Just as she began to regret ignoring her mother’s pleas to wear a third layer, the platform became warmer as kids exited the train. Dean took her hand, grabbing Seamus’ as well as they struggled to make it through the crowd. In the distance, they spotted a lamp accompanied by a booming voice.

“Firs’ years! Firs’ years over here!” The three kids followed the voice and soon came upon the largest man Lily had ever seen. On a scale from one to _My God He’s Really Big_ , he was really big.  
“C’mon, follow me—any more firs’ years? Mind yer step, now! Firs’ years follow me!” She and her friends followed the giant man in amazement. Soon the only light left was his lamp as he led them down a black, narrow path; Dean tightened his grip on her hand. She understood what he meant. They would not get separated in the dark.

Dean whispered nervously, “What if this was all a ruse to violently murder us?”

“That would show real dedication,” Lily whispered back. Seamus snorted, before slamming straight into the back of another first year who had stopped suddenly.

“Why’d we stop?” She asked. Before her friends could answer, the crowd parted, revealing an expanse of black water. Light shimmered off the giant lake like stars, and she could have sworn she saw something peek its head out of the water. She searched for the famed castle, but the trees blocked her view of the school. The giant man called them over to the boats that lined the shore, so she followed her classmates’ lead and began to board, pulling Dean and Seamus in. A small girl climbed in after them and they pushed off.

As they rounded the bend, the sky lit up with thousands and thousands of stars, and then there it was. Hogwarts. The magnificent castle came into view. Everyone around her gasped, and Cecily looked on with amazement. She didn’t think that buildings were made that big. Skibbereen’s largest building was the windmill, and she didn’t think that counted. Hogwarts was beautiful. As she looked at it for the first time, she knew she would love it here. 

Then she couldn’t see anymore. Her eyes clouded with smoke and when she opened them the magnificent castle was gone and in its place was rubble. She looked to the previously clear starry sky, now obscured by dark, heavy clouds, and in the center...in the center was a skull, and weaving out of its mouth…a snake.

She blinked and shuddered and it was gone. Hogwarts came back into view. Lily sat there shivering, her face pale and her hands clammy. She felt like she was going to throw up. Dean turned, pointing at the castle, but stopped in surprise, a look of worry on his face. “Are you alright?” he asked. 

Her throat dry, Lily choked out a “fine”, thinking quickly, “motion sickness.” Dean nodded sympathetically, and Lily was glad he asked no more questions.

She wondered if this was a common occurrence in the wizarding world. Maybe it was just a daydream, or a nightmare. Or would she once again be cast out as strange? She tried her best to put the…whatever that was, out of her mind as the boats reached the shore and she stepped out. A familiar voice distracted her from her thoughts, and a woman in green stepped into the light at the top of the steps.

“Professor McGonagall!” She shouted and all heads turned to her. She blushed and whispered “sorry”. McGonagall paid no attention and waved her hand for the students to follow. She led them up the stairs to the gigantic front door, and with a flick of a wand the door sprung open. Lily stared at the giant entrance hall lined with torches that cast a warm glow everywhere, despite the size. She had to stop looking around when Professor McGonagall began to speak. She reiterated what she had already informed Lily the first time they had met, and then spoke about House Points and the House Cup awarded at the end of the year. Once she had finished, she told them to wait there.

“What house do you think you’ll get sorted into?” A girl near her asked. Lily had never thought about what house she wanted to be in. Professor McGonagall had stressed the importance of a house when Lily first met her, but now that she had friends she realized there was a large chance she would be separated from them. “I think I’d like to be in Hufflepuff, that was my mum’s house,” the same girl said happily.

“I’d think I’d die if I ended up in Hufflepuff,” the blonde-haired boy from the train sneered. Seamus balled up his fists.

“At least it’s better than Slytherin!” He challenged angrily. Lily was starting to understand that the house rivalry went deeper than McGonagall had suggested.

“Not one good person has come out of Slytherin, Malfoy. That was You-Know-Who’s house, you know?” a red-haired boy, with a striking resemblance to the Weasley twins, called out. Malfoy stepped towards the boy with his two Large Goons following in step. Fortunately, Professor McGonagall arrived just in time, and the boys stepped back quickly.

“Miss Quinn, I advise you find somewhere to put that cat.” Lily had completely forgotten about the beast in her arms, and as if on queue, he jumped down and ran off. She knew he had just been biding time before. Now, successfully cat-less, the group formed a line and walked through the doors.

The room was far bigger than the one she had just exited. She was hesitant to even call it a room. This was “just a room” like a football stadium was “just a tent”. Hundreds of kids stared at her and the other first years. She just now wondered how they would be placed into the houses. She heard Hermione say something about _Hogwarts, A History_ and a test? _Can I be kicked out of school before I’ve even started?_ She wondered as someone started to sing. Wait. No…something. She had just noticed the ratty hat that lay on a stool. It seemed to be singing a very weird song. Something about each house and their mascots, but she was still hung up about the fact that the hat was talking at all to pay much attention to the words. She was only brought out of her shock when the first name was called.

“Abbott, Hannah!” The small girl who had spoken on the steps earlier ran up to the stool.

“HUFFLEPUFF!” The hat called, and she happily waltzed over to her new table, as her house cheered. _Oh, I just put it on my head. Well, that’s not so bad._ Many of the first years had been going on about tests or fighting trolls, but the most she had to worry about was lice. An “Esperanza, Dia” was sorted into Gryffindor, along with Seamus, who grinned as he sped off to the table. The sorting continued swiftly and was somewhat comedic as more than one person had tripped over their robes on the way up. She thought she might have found it funny if she weren’t so nervous.

“Potter, Harry” She felt the crowd grow still, then a wave of whispers broke out. A small, gangly boy with black hair and glasses stepped up to the old hat. So, this was the famous Harry Potter? He didn’t look like much. To be honest, she didn’t really know what she was expecting, but this small 11-year-old boy was not it. This dark wizard she’d heard so much about must have been pretty weak if he couldn’t defeat this kid as a baby. 

“Quinn, Cecily” She was shaken out of her thoughts. She couldn’t move. What if this was all a mistake? Dean pushed her forward and her feet acted on their own, taking her closer to the old hat. Malfoy and Seamus’ words waltzed into her mind. She didn’t want to lose her friends when she had just made them. Someone placed the hat on her head. She jumped when she heard a voice.

“Oh, I haven’t seen one of _you in a while_ ,” the voice in her head mused, “What a great destiny for such a small girl.” She didn’t know what the hat was talking about, all she wanted was to get sorted.

“Where to put you…I don’t think Ravenclaw would do you any good, though you’ve got a fine mind. You’re much too impatient for a Hufflepuff!”

“Can you please hurry,” she muttered, trying to avoid thinking about all the eyes on her—staring, whispering.

“Alright, alright! Definitely not a Hufflepuff. Well, I suppose you’d do well in Slytherin. You aren’t very ambitious, but blood can be thick…” She was thoroughly confused but she knew she did not want to be in Slytherin. The hat hummed to itself.

“If you say so…I guess it better be GRYFFINDOR!” The hat yelled to the rest of the hall. She hopped off the stool with a blinding smile as her new house cheered. She spotted Seamus, who was practically screaming. 

Once Dean had been sorted into Gryffindor, followed by Ron Weasley—she knew it!—and a tall girl into Slytherin, the sorting finally came to a close. The rest of the feast flew by as everybody explained where they were from, what classes they were excited to take, and what Quidditch team they supported—Lily stopped listening after that. Finally, it ended. Dumbledore, not her cat, said a few words and sent them off to bed. Lily didn’t pay much attention to where they were going, all she knew was that there were a lot of stairs and the paintings seemed like they were moving; she thought that might be from the lack of sleep. 

When they entered the common room, she took a second to admire it with the rest of her classmates before heading to the room the Prefect had pointed to and flinging open her trunk. She grabbed her clothes and was immediately greeted by the journal her mother had given her. She hadn’t remembered packing that. 

She placed it beside her bed and climbed in before the rest of the girls had even joined her in the room, and hoped she could finally sleep.

Lily had been up since four and had been on two long train rides, but as light snores replaced her roommates’ giggles, she lay wide awake. The journal taunted her from the bedside table and the skull from her vision danced across her mind. 

With no chance of sleep arriving anytime soon, she snatched the diary off the table and quietly crawled out of bed grabbing a pen from her trunk. She began to write. Everything she remembered. The rubble. The smell of ash and flames. The snake. She wrote into the late hours of the night, and only when her eyes fluttered close and the candle flickered out, did she finally fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> by the way if I have any readers I’m so sorry for the delay I’ve been super busy. Chapter 5 is almost done there’s just this one part I’m not sure how to write and I haven’t had time to sit down and do it. But hopefully soon.


End file.
